


i was bad, you were good (life was simple)

by background_chan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Reader, Angst, Bitter Reader, Crossroads Demon Reader, Drabble, Drabble Sequence, F/M, Hunter!Reader, Reader Sold Her Soul Beforehand, Reader dies, Reader-Insert, Realistic, Sassy Reader, She has anger issues, That means Angst, You Know That's A Bad Idea, demon reader, did I mention the angst?, sarcastic reader, there's a lot of angst, whatever that means
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-08 15:14:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13460916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/background_chan/pseuds/background_chan
Summary: Somehow you forgot——how could you forget?——that life isn’t a movie, and it never ends in kisses.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is, yet again, one of my not-so-good works but to be fair, it was supposed to be one long one shot before I decided to just post it as drabbles. Be warned: each "chapter" is very, very short. This IS a side project after all.

You were dying the first time it happened, a typical occasion in the not-so-typical life of a hunter. If this was a movie, there would be sad music playing in the background and, as the Main Character held you in his arms, the sadness of the scene would be drawn out as the Bad Guy conveniently forgets to aim for the distracted hero and/or gets taken care of by the not-so-fashionably late reinforcement(s).

But this wasn’t a movie, so you died in an explosion you created to take down the Bad Guys after luring them into a warehouse. You didn’t have the chance to say your last words, and the boys came into the scene half an hour late; no teary goodbyes, no body to mourn over. The Winchesters and their angel mascot went their way alive, leaving yet another dead friend in their wake.

So technically, you were _dead_ the first time it happened. In Hell, if you wanted to get specific, but you were never one for details and would never actually _tell_ anyone about the first time in the first place, so who cares?

You were in Hell, surrounded by the sounds and acts of extensive torture and in the middle of a torture session yourself when “it” happened, and the “it” was actually very pleasant and unpleasant at the same time, an uncomfortably confusing feeling that blended right into the atmosphere of literal Hell.

Of course, like any low-budget movie made in the early 2000s, that “it” was something you refused to have.

And as a demon carved you a new hole, you decided you would rather stay here your whole life (death?) then admit that you had “it”.

That you were _in_ “it”.

…love. 


	2. Chapter 2

It was thousands of years before they saw fit to let you go. At least, you _think_ it was that long; ages to the tortured was mere seconds to the torturer. _There’s a saying for that_ , you thought, as you ripped said torturer’s meatsuit apart. ‘ _Time flies when you’re having fun_.’

_Just like this guy’s frontal lobe._

It took even longer to get into the position you were in now, as a nameless demon who killed her designated torturers wasn’t a very common, nor welcome, occurrence. You’d think in Hell, _everyone_ would be spending their time tearing each other apart, but no, apparently there were things called _rules_ and _decency_ and a _chain of command_.

You didn’t know or care about this Etiquette Of Hell. You were a sociopathic amnesiac; all you knew was that you were as pissed as the place you resided in.

But eventually, if only to get all of the attention off your back, you decided to lay low and abide by the “law” they had going on. Because however screwed it may be, it still prevented 98% of the demon population from dying off.

Because what would Hell be like, without its demon army?

(Earth, actually, now that you think about it.)


	3. Chapter 3

Unwarranted thinking aside, the “laying low” plan seemed to work, giving you a demons-breathing-down-your-neck-free life (death?) and the somewhat-tolerable job of a crossroads demon. Your more interesting metaphorical nightlife had been being your own inside man in Hell, spying on proceedings and gathering all the info you could get your hands on.

Because of intuition _and_ spite, but the reasons weren’t important. You didn’t know what you would use it for; all you knew was that you didn’t need to nor _want_ to know that the alleged King of Hell had a full squadron of demons tasked with harvesting former demons’ meatsuits and making them into souls’ “meals” as a new form of torture.

(Their methods of torture had become less of physical pain and more of psychological torment, you notice. It’s a strange way of running things: manipulating instead of terrorizing. But considering the fact Crowley was possessing an unassuming Englishman leaning on the fat side, you supposed “terror” wasn’t exactly the emotion he initially invokes.)

Speaking of meatsuit: you hated your job.


	4. Chapter 4

“What do you want?”

“A nicer demon, for one.”

“I think you’ll need a better soul for that. Or better yet, ring up the front office. The manager downstairs can spare a discount, if you’d like?”

✦✧✦

“Are you a demon?”

“No, I’m the president. I just appeared out of thin air in the middle of a Satanic summoning to tell you to start paying your taxes.”

✦✧✦

“You’re mean.”

“And you’re too old to be alive, and yet here we are.”

✦✧✦

“What is your deepest desire?”

“To be successful in life!”

“I said _desire_ , not hopeless delusion.”

✦✧✦

“ _Mother of God!"_

“Did you just assume my gender?”

✦✧✦

“I want the prettiest girl in my school to fall in love with me.”

“Sorry kid, but I’m a demon, not a god. I can’t do miracles.” 

✦✧✦

“Do demons pee?”

“...What.”

✦✧✦

“...I mean just think about it! Millions and billions of people breathing the same polluted air and contracting the same preventable diseases from them! And all we _really_ need to do is—”

“Look man, either you’re gonna tell me what you want or I’m gonna sit on you.”

“Oh, I wanna be a space cowboy.”

✦✧✦

“I don't understand.”

“You’re an idiot.

✦✧✦

“ _Yes_ , that's what I just _said_. What is it with dumb blondes nowadays?”

“Yeah, so I'm blonde. What’s your excuse?”

✦✧✦

“I don’t understand. If I give you my soul, couldn’t I still go to Heaven?”

“...I’m so done with you.”


End file.
